The closer Saturday came, the more nervous Jeremiah became. He slept little and drank more coffee than he ever had in an attempt to stay awake during his sessions.
By Friday, he had Flo call everyone and reschedule, because he couldn’t stand to be in the office, and he didn’t deserve to get paid if he couldn’t do his job.
He walked the boardwalk, a craving to call Mayor Glover and tell him he’d made a grave mistake. There was still time to fix it. The mayor could pick someone else for the Dignitary Award. No one would have to know why.
Jeremiah shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. Hercules ambled along at his side, and Jeremiah finally took the dog off the boardwalk and down the sand a little bit. “Let’s sit here for a minute,” he said, and he sat down.
Hercules had never complained about sitting, and he flopped down in the sand too. He leaned right into Jeremiah, putting his head right under Jeremiah’s chin.
“I know bud.” Jeremiah rubbed under Hercules’s chin, his anxiety calming inch by inch. He thought of Shannon, and how she’d texted him last night to say she’d finally found the perfect dress. When he’d asked for a picture, she’d refused to send him one, claiming she wanted it to be a surprise on Saturday night.
She had said the dress was blue, and Jeremiah’s fantasies started creating all kinds of gowns for the beautiful Shannon Bell to wear. He definitely wanted to see her in that dress and have her on his arm for the gala. So maybe he’d still go.
He watched the waves for a moment, and then got to his feet. “Come on, bud,” he said to Hercules. “Let’s go home.”
Saturday morning arrived, and then noon, and then Jeremiah found himself dressing in that ridiculous tuxedo. Everything was crisp and straight and he was twenty minutes early to pick up Shannon. They were still getting to know one another, but she seemed like the type to have each detail exactly where it should be, and she’d likely need all her time to do that.
He pulled out his phone and sent her a text. I’m ready early. So much nervous energy. Mind if I come over?
Of course not. Hercules could probably use a break from my nervous energy.
Jeremiah smiled at the message. Three minutes later, he pulled into Shannon’s driveway and went up the steps to knock on her door. He’d only been inside the one time. Even when he’d stopped by to drop of Herc last night, he’d just let the dog go in while he stood on the porch.
Shannon had brought out ice cream sandwiches and they’d sat on the steps and talked for a while. Jeremiah realized he was the calmest when he was with her, and he took a deep breath while he waited for her to answer the door.
The door opened, but Shannon wasn’t behind it. A woman with the same dark as midnight hair stood there, and she raked her eyes from the top of his head to his shiny shoes and back. “You must be Jeremiah.”
“I certainly am,” he said. “Let me guess. Shannon’s sister….” She had two, both younger than her. He knew both of their names—Cheryl and Cheyenne, and he was going to have to guess which one stood in front of him.
“Cheryl,” he said with utmost confidence in his voice.
The woman smiled. “I can see why she likes you so much.” She pulled the door further back and said, “Come on in. She wanted to make a dramatic entrance.”
“Hmm,” Jeremiah said as he entered the house. “Shannon doesn’t seem like the dramatic type.”
“Fine,” Cheryl said. “I wanted her to make a dramatic entrance.” She laughed, and Jeremiah did too. “I’ll go get her.” Cheryl left, and Jeremiah was left to stand in the foyer by himself.
In front of him, in the living room at the back of the house, Hercules laid on the couch, but he made no move to get up and greet Jeremiah. So he walked that way and sat down next to his dog. “Did she do a fashion show for you already?” he asked, but Hercules said nothing in return.
Jeremiah’s heart pounded in his chest, and finally he heard footsteps coming down the hall. He jumped to his feet and wiped his hands down the front of his legs.
Shannon appeared, the royal blue dress so stunning that Jeremiah stopped breathing for a moment. It hugged her curves and felt in long layers to the floor. She wore a pair of black heels on her feet and clutched a small purse of the same color.
The dress had narrow straps that went over her bare shoulders, and her hair had been pinned up into a dozen rose-shaped twists.
His involuntary functions kicked in and he blinked and breathed and stared. “Wow,” he said. “You’re absolutely stunning. I don’t think we can go to this thing together.”
Her face shone with radiance, and she giggled quietly at him. “Why?” she asked, coming closer. “Because you’ll upstage me?”
“Are you kidding?”
She brought the scent of flowers and sea foam with her, and Jeremiah swept his arm around her waist, pulling her right against his body. “You’re going to steal the show,” he murmured, his eyes drifting halfway closed. “They’re going to think they gave the award to the wrong person.”
Her smile was lit by a thousand light bulbs, and if Jeremiah hasn’t already been on the very slippery slope toward falling in love with her, that sexy little grin would’ve done it.
He leaned down like he might kiss her right then and there—it was all he could think about in the moment—but somewhere behind Shannon, Cheryl cleared her throat.
Jeremiah practically jumped backward, dropping his hand from Shannon’s waist and drawing in a lungful of air that was scented like her.
“You clean up really well, Doctor,” Shannon said, the flirtatious tone in her voice at a level Jeremiah had never heard before. She fiddled with his perfectly straight bowtie, the nearness of her shooting fireworks through his bloodstream.
“I want a picture,” her sister announced.
Shannon scowled and turned toward her. “No, Cheryl. We’re not going to the prom.” She cut a glance at Jeremiah, a flush staining her cheeks.
“I don’t mind,” he said. “We’re going to get our picture taken together a lot tonight, is my guess.”
Pure panic paraded across Shannon’s pretty features. “We are?”
Jeremiah looked at Cheryl and then Shannon. “Yes, sweetheart. It’s a gala in my honor. There will be a dozen reporters there.”
“You look perfect,” Cheryl said, taking a few quick steps forward. “It’s fine, Shannon.”
Jeremiah reached for her hand, glad she didn’t jerk away when he touched her. “You just smile and hold onto me, Shannon. It’ll be fine.”
Now if only Jeremiah actually believed himself. But he took a step toward the front door, and then another, and the ground didn’t crack. Didn’t swallow him whole. Didn’t sprout vines and drag him down.
He helped Shannon into the car and made sure her dress was all the way in before closing the door. Once he was behind the wheel, he said, “Cheryl is just as wonderful as you’ve said.”
“Funny, that’s exactly what she said about you.” Shannon laughed, and all the tension between them evaporated.
“It really will be fine,” he said.
“I know,” Shannon said. “Just sometimes, I feel a little…inadequate. You know? Do you ever feel like that?”
“Every day,” he said, flipping on his blinker.
“Really?” The weight of her stare on the side of his face drew his gaze toward her.
“Of course, Shannon. Everyone feels like that.”
“You don’t think you deserve this award?”
“I know I don’t deserve this award.” Jeremiah wanted to rip his bowtie off and go home. Put on the TV and see if there was anything good to watch.
“Why do you think that?” she asked.
“Because I’m just doing my job. I don’t need an award for doing my job.”
“It’s nice to be recognized, though,” she said.
Jeremiah nodded and said, “You’re right. It is.”
“So we’ll have fun.”
“Yes,” he said as he turned onto Main Street and headed for Sweet Breeze, where the gala was being held. “Let’s make a pact to have fun tonight.”
“Deal,” she said, reaching over and taking his hand in her. Jeremiah smiled, his brain moving at warp speeds now as it tried to reason through the different scenarios for after the gala. Could he kiss Shannon? Was it too soon? Would she kiss him? Should he ask her first?
He pulled into the circle drive, nothing particularly special about his convertible, but a crowd rushed forward—the reporters, clearly.
“Here we go,” he said, his smiling muscles already tired and the event hadn’t even started yet.
A valet opened his door and said, “Good evening, sir. The mayor is expecting you.”
Of course he was. “I’m to wait here, correct?” Jeremiah asked.
“He’s been notified of your arrival. He’ll be down momentarily, but yes, we’ll have you wait right over here.” He gestured to a spot on the other side of the car, where another valet was speaking with Shannon.
Jeremiah got out of the car and made sure his jacket was buttoned before he walked around the front. The clicking of cameras was almost loud enough to drown out the questions being hurled at him.
He slipped his arm around Shannon, and the two of them posed. Only a moment later, Mayor Glover came out of the building. “Jeremiah,” he said with a booming voice. “Good to see you.”
Jeremiah shook his hand, the press eating up every moment, and stepped back to Shannon’s side. “This is Shannon Bell,” he said. “Shannon, Mayor Glover.”
“Wonderful to meet you,” she said, her voice like liquid gold and her smile absolutely stunning. So she knew how to play the game too. Of course she did. She worked with Hope Sorensen daily and probably had dealt with dozens of bridezillas over the years.
“Should we go in?” the mayor asked. “We’re just mingling right now.”
“Of course,” Jeremiah said. “Lead on.” He cringed at the words. Lead on? Who said that?
The mayor walked past the press as if they weren’t even there, but Jeremiah couldn’t help glancing at them. Probably a mistake, because they seemed to get louder when he did.
“They’re not coming in?” he asked the mayor once the huge sliding doors had sealed the media outside of the hotel.
“Those are the ones who didn’t get an official invitation,” Mayor Glover said. “We have six reporters inside. Six cameramen. They won’t bother you, though we have promised them all a brief interview.” He went down a private hall, where a man stood to push the elevator button for him, as if the mayor didn’t dare stoop to the level of calling his own elevator car.
“Right, I remember,” Jeremiah said. He took a deep breath, glad Shannon’s hand was already in his. He smiled at her, a brief stolen moment, before the elevator arrived and they stepped on.
As they went up and the mayor babbled on about something, all Jeremiah could think was that the night was about to get interesting—oh, and he really hoped he could end it with a kiss.